Sleeping
by Klutz242
Summary: Sirius remembers why he loves sleep.


A/N This is another one-shot in response to _whispered touches_ **Six Billion Secrets Challenge**. This one is number 9 though, "I love sleep. Because life has a tendency to fall apart when I'm awake". This is, sadly, another Sirius one. I'm gonna try and write all the ones I can for him before I work on the others, which is horrible I know, but I love Sirius! And please review!

I've always loved sleep, ever since I was little I loved sleeping. No matter how big of a fuss I put on about having to go to bed, it was always my favorite time of day. I never told anyone this, because honestly they wouldn't understand, and I think a part of me doesn't WANT them to understand. But I think Remus knows. Actually I'm almost positive Remus knows. But he doesn't say anything about it. Never has, and I doubt he ever will. I'm sure you're wondering why I like sleeping, so I'll start at the beginning.

My name is Sirius Black, and sleeping is my escape. When I was little my parents always taught me what they believed was right and wrong. But my cousin Andy always taught me the opposite. It confused me, truthfully. I had my parents saying one thing and my favorite cousin saying the other. I could never decide who I wanted to believe, it honestly depended on the day of the week. One day I'd be the perfect pureblood son who did everything mummy and daddy said. But the next, the next I'd argue muggle born rights and always end up sent to my room with some body part bleeding or broken. I never told Andy this, because I never acted this way around her. I didn't want someone to realize that it was Andy who taught me everything they hated. I didn't want them to hate her. But anyway, depending on the day of the week I was something different. I could tell my parents were getting frustrated, but I don't think my brother ever noticed. You see, either way, I always promised to be a good brother. I admit I broke that promise in many ways when I got older, but that's not what we're talking about right now. Right now I was saying how I always did what people wanted of me, but never what I wanted. I know Andy wasn't trying to force her views onto me, and that's why I respected her. However, I still felt like I had to be like her when she wasn't around. But when I slept, I was me. I didn't have to worry about proving myself to anyone. I could say everything I thought about everyone in my dreams. I could escape my reality.

When I started Hogwarts, the whole world as I knew it crashed. I was sorted into Gryffindor, the one house detested by 99% of my family. I still remember the look on Andy's face. She was standing up and screaming for me. But I also remember Bella's face. I had always been scared of Bella, but I'd never hated her. But the look on her face when the hat called my house, it was pure hatred and pure disappointment. And unfortunately, she wasn't the only one. My parents sent howlers to both me and Dumbledore, screaming for a resort or screaming for my disownment. I played it off like I didn't care. I made friends with the people that my parents hated and loved them as much as my cousin, because there was no way I loved my family, right? Right. Well… at least when I was awake. But when I was asleep I could pretend that my parents still loved me. That when I went home in the summer Bella would still pick on me, but with love in her eyes instead of the fury. I dreamed that I could still be friends with my friends and still have my family. But it didn't happen.

When I was 16 I ran away. I couldn't stand my family and they couldn't stand me. By that point in time I was sure I hated them all. But I was wrong. As I walked out of the door for what I thought was the last time, the thought crossed my mind that I was really losing something. I was losing my brother. My brother had been pretty much neutral about the war. But that was really because of me. I tried to take the role of Andy for him. I told him in secret the truth just like Andy told me. And I think a part of him wanted to believe it. But I think the other part was stronger. The part that wanted my parents to love him, and be proud of him. Because he saw what would happen if he chose the other side, and it scared him. But I think there was still a chance. If I had just waited it out until I graduated I would have been able to see my brother without him being worried he'd be kicked out of the family for seeing me. But when I walked out that door at 16 I showed him everything he didn't want. And he probably thought I gave up on him, that I hated him like I hated the others. And at school we both sneered as we passed in the hallways. Glared when we saw each other with our separate group of friends. But at night, at night I could dream about me NOT leaving. Or me asking him if he wanted to come with me. Even if he had said no, he would have known I still cared. At night I could try and pretend that I didn't ruin everything with my brother.

After I graduated I forgot my family for the most part. I still saw Andy every Sunday, and I still thought about Reg every night. But I could survive it. And I could be happy. But it all changed on Halloween. I remember I was actually on my way to Godric's Hollow to take Harry trick-or-treating with James or Lily. I was so excited! Harry's first Halloween, and I'd be right beside him. But when I got to the house I felt everything die inside. James, my (God forgive me) replacement brother was in a house with the roof collapsed over them. And his beautiful wife was probably beside him. But most importantly, my godson was in there. Some part of my brain knew they were dead, but I just zoomed my motor-bike faster until I was standing in front of the house. Hagrid was their sobbing and I slowly walked up to him. I just looked at him and he told me what I never wanted to know. James and Lily were dead, and it was my fault. But it was a miracle, Hagrid told me. Because who was he holding in his giant arms? He was holding Harry. He had survived and defeated the Dark Lord. I didn't know rather to laugh or cry. I begged Hagrid to give me Harry, but he kept saying something about Dumbledore's orders. I didn't understand! Dumbledore knew I was Harry's godfather, so why did he want him? But then it hit me. What Dumbledore thought, what everyone would think by morning. They would believe that I had been the Potters' secret keeper, that I was a Death Eater, that I was a traitor. I remember being numb and slowly nodding at Hagrid. I remember giving him the keys to my bike and telling him I wouldn't need it any more, that he could have it. I knew it was the truth, because in the morning I was either going to be Harry's guardian, or an inmate in Azkaban. And neither position allowed a bike I was sure. So instead of being smart and going to Dumbledore, I looked for Peter. I looked for the rat to get revenge. But for the first time in his pitiful life he outsmarted me. He told everyone in the street that I had killed Lily and James. And then he killed the innocent bystanders and "killed" himself. I couldn't help but laugh when the aurors came. Because honestly, I never thought that little Peter could outsmart me.

I was thrown into Azkaban, and while that was hell with the dementors, it gave me a lot of time to sleep. To pretend. To imagine. And to dream. I'd pretend that I agreed to be the secret keeper and had never came up with the idea to try and trick Voldemort. I dreamed Lily and James were still alive and Lily still managed to burn salad. And I imagined that I never thought Remus was the traitor. That I had stayed in touch with him and never let Peter trick me into deserting my friend. But most importantly, I would fantasize the thought of being Harry's godfather. Teaching him how to get out of trouble with James and Lily, and teach him how to get in trouble with the Slytherins. Sometimes I had these dreams so much I'd actually start to believe them. I'd wake up and wonder if I was guarding Azkaban again. And I'd try and remember where and when I was supposed to meet the gang for lunch. But then I'd try to remember their faces, or their voices, or even their names, and I couldn't. And then I'd remember everything, and I'd fall apart.

I always love sleep, because life has the tendency to fall apart when I'm awake.

THE END


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